A Wizard’s Guide to Defensive Baking

At the moment, though, all I want to do is make muffins and bread and learn to be the best baker in the city. Magic is exhausting.
So if you ever happen to be passing down Market Street, before you get into the Rat’s Elbow, take the turn onto Wallfish Street, and go down about half a block. You’ll find yourself at the very best bakery in the city.
And if I’m in a good mood, and you ask nicely, I might even make the gingerbread men get up and dance.

After a minute, I said, “I never wanted to be a hero.”
His face was solemn. “Nobody ever does.”

“Heroism is a bad habit. Once you’ve done it, other people start to expect it.

In magic, creativity is as important as knowledge.

I guess really bad people all think they’re using each other and being really clever about it.

I folded the note and shoved it into my pocket. I hadn’t expected a letter from the Golden General in the first place, so it was stupid to feel disappointed that, when one arrived, it didn’t include handy advice like, “By the way, I’ve hidden the magic superweapon in the third broom closet on the left.”

If you have ever prepared for a siege in two days, then you know what the next few days were like. If you haven’t, then you probably don’t.

Then she swept up a box full of muffins (which were supposed to go to the knitting circle on Fourth Street) and forced them into my hands. Maybe she thought they didn’t feed people at the palace.

Aunt Tabitha tried to say “It was dreadful,” and “It was nothing,” at the same time and produced a garbled sentence that sounded vaguely like, “Notherful! Fing!”